Someone wants the truth, seems fucking desperate for it, and asks you to tell them everything. They say that they need to find out what really happened with someone, because they can’t sleep, it’s tearing them apart, and they don’t want to have a future with this person if it is built on lies. In fact, they’re already so close to leaving them.

But the person they want to know about was close to you. So what do you do? You go against your better judgement, and tell them what you know (the bare minimum). Omitting the worst details, so you can avoid being the one to break them apart, to let them make their mind up themselves. Sounds good, right?

Except now, you want to be done with this. You want this all the end. You want to avoid keeping the remaining information buried any longer. Because it’s making you lose sleep over it. You want to disclose it, so you don’t have to worry about it. So you can start over and have a clean slate. How? How do you do this? Is this even possible without hurting anyone?

So what do you do? Do you just disclose it all to the person who was begging you for it in the first place? Or do you first confront the person who you were close to (whom the information is about) and let them deal with this somehow?

This is kind of rhetorical, but it’s also a real question? So if anyone wants to tell me what to do, now is the time. Like, seriously. Yes, you.

You know how someone can just define a whole genre of music for you? That can be hard sometimes. Mainly because it was my favourite genre. And then every song I hear after that – poof. I just remember them. I kind of like doing that, which is what scares me. Because I don’t want to remember.

We all need to be agile to live in this world. To think on our feet, and to always be alert. I suppose the upside of undergoing hardship is that it does sharpen you. Everything you do afterwards is a reflection of what you went through. You think through things carefully; every decision counts. I’m not talking about the small things. But the big things. The big things that carry weight, and importance. The choices that affect others deeply. And I’m proud to say that I always try and make the right choice. At least I can take that with me. I know some people that have made horrible decisions, but that’s the thing with those horrible decisions. They always come around to bite you. And I speak from experience, so I know it’s true. And when I’m given the option to do the right thing or the wrong thing, I’ll do what’s right. That’s why I can sleep a couple hours every night in peace, despite what I’m going through. I’ll always do my best to help people that want to be helped. And to only meddle in certain issues when I’m asked to. That’s my duty, to help others. With that in mind, I’ll carry on doing what I’m doing. To focus on myself. But to also help people as much as I can. And to always be wary of the decision I am making. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be who I am. And I’m not going to apologise for that.

I think it’s important to note that being entertained – similarly, being amused, laughing, or joking around – can all be done whilst being quite depressed. I mope around a lot. And I can still look at memes, and feel trapped in a black hole, simultaneously. It is very, very possible. I can not be in the middle of a hyperventilating breakdown, and instantly laugh at a hilarious picture on Reddit. But I can wake up one morning, know that I don’t want to live, turn on the telly, and amuse myself for an hour or two. Immediately when I saw this prompt, it made me think of people laughing, and obviously having a good time. For me, it is slightly different. I can go out and enjoy myself, before returning to my abode and feeling miserable again. I can distract myself with addictive scrolling through Instagram, but that entertainment doesn’t really give me anything. It just bounces off my surface. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy it. But I certainly don’t take anything from it. I guess entertainment means different things to different people. For me, it means: occupying, beguiling, and engrossing myself. Because it can be very soothing to watch Made of Honour for the ninth time. Patrick Dempsey won’t rid me of my grief, but he is rather nice to look at.

Wouldn’t it be so freeing if our bodies were static? I’ve always heard about movement being liberating. But I’m tired. So it’s kind of the opposite. I want to stay still. I want to not move. I want to be at rest for a while. I’m done trying to do things. Trying to heave this body up every day. Wouldn’t it be nice to just stop? I’m exhausted from trying every day. I wish it were easier and I had the capacity and the energy to mobilise myself like I once did. But I want out. It’s just so much simpler. Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to just end it? I don’t think I’d be afraid. To shut down. To give in. To concede. Maybe I should be scared by this thought. However, the truth is that when you have these thoughts for so long, they no longer consume you like they once did. They sit there and you feed them. Retain them. Accept them. Because they aren’t going anywhere.

Oh god I’m so bored. To be honest I really shouldn’t be awake at 3am. That just leads to grogginess tomorrow and me inevitably wasting almost the first half of the day in bed. Which is a shame considering I wanted to be productive in the last few days of my holiday. My break has mainly consisted of me trying to evoke some energy out of a drained vessel. That’s me. I’m incredibly tired. Probably the most exhausted I have been in a while. Mentally. Physically. Everything. Like my body has given up, and I’m following suit. I don’t know what it is. If I had to pick a reason, I would decide that it’s because I am simply fed up. Of people around me. I’ve spent too much time with family. And it’s sort of built up a nausea in me. That’s probably not normal… Oh well. I’ll just sit tight until I can be in London again. For a city so busy, it’s probably one of the only places I seem to genuinely like. And by “like”, I mean a place that doesn’t give me lethargy

Isn’t it all brilliant? How life can twist and turn. In only a matter of weeks, joy can turn to sorrow. But I suppose that’s nothing new; we all know that emotions are fleeting – especially happiness. Sometimes life just feels unbearable but that isn’t so much of a deal when you have support. So what happens when the ones that are supposed to be giving you support, are actually the ones causing you grief? When the environment you wake up in is suffocating? Someone who I thought supported me said to me the other week: “You can’t cut your own family off”. I just smiled and replied in my head: ‘Watch me’. You CAN cut off anyone in your life who is toxic Anyone who brings you harm. If they are one of your parents, or close relatives then don’t think for a moment that you have to put up with that bullshit.

This backwards South-Asian principle of staying with your family, no matter what they do to you, is wrong. Not only is it wrong, it is insulting to yourself. You will be doing yourself a great injustice. Because why put up with horrid behaviour and excuse it, simply because it is projected from a blood relative?

‘..but blood is thicker than water’. Well wake the fuck up. Blood is not thicker than water. Water is not thicker than blood. Be with people you love, who return your love – end of. Now that’s brilliant. I’m tired of family letting me down. Hurting me. Disappointing me. Ignoring me. Enough is enough. Why should I put up with this?